“He gave the coordinator this,” Helen said, handing me the paper.

“She wasn’t sure whether you had approved it.”

It was a printed introduction for the emcee, followed by a paragraph in Dad’s handwriting.

I recognized his neat capitals and the way he drew the tail of every letter G.

The opening was kind enough.

It congratulated us and praised the lovely barn.

Then came the sentence that made my chest go cold.

“Clara has always been independent, sometimes to a fault, and today she gave us all a lesson in doing things her own way.”